


This Year

by agent_of_mischief



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: ADHD Hawke, Bipolar Anders (Dragon Age), Closeted Character, Drinking, Everyone Has Issues, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Minor Character Death, Modern AU, Modern Thedas, Multi, Mutual Pining, No Magic AU, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Child Abuse, Past Drug Use, Reality TV Star Hawke, Recreational Drug Use, Smoking, Use of actual songs in fic, all in the past and it's not one of the twins don't worry, musician Anders, musician au, weed basically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:28:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29477001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent_of_mischief/pseuds/agent_of_mischief
Summary: Indie singer and songwriter Anders has a hard time handling his newfound celebrity status, and he’s already earned a reputation as a loud-mouthed activist with a short temper within a little more than a year from his big breakthrough.Ex-child star and forever Thedas’ Sweetheart Bethany Hawke is contractually tied to reality TV but she dreams of becoming a musician, inspired in part by Anders’ music, which she and her older brother have been fans of since their teen years in Ferelden.Kirkwall’s bad boy Garrett Hawke is growing weary of his own fabricated TV persona, but he has resigned to a life of chasing headlines and instigating scandals if it means he can help his younger siblings break free of their contractual obligations to a controlling network and pursue their own dreams.When the Hawke siblings and Anders’ common manager Varric Tethras arranges a televised musical collaboration between Bethany and Anders, their lives intersect and will eventually come to change in ways none of them could have expected.
Relationships: Anders & Bethany Hawke, Anders & Varric Tethras, Anders/Male Hawke, Hawke & Varric Tethras
Comments: 8
Kudos: 13





	1. Despite What You've Been Told

**Author's Note:**

> So here it is at long last, our modern Thedas musician AU! Check the notes at the end for more info about the AU and links! We also have a [tumblr](https://thisyearonao3.tumblr.com/) ! [Song](https://youtu.be/MzRXc8L_WiM) for this chapter's title.

The morning started early for the Hawkes. An exciting day for sure, but between a four AM wake up call for wardrobe and make up, and various crew members rushing them around and creating a manufactured chaos to film, Garrett is already exhausted. Finally, sitting in the recording studio he has a moment to breathe; his expression may look impassive, but he's beaming on the inside. Beth gets to record her own music with creative freedom, and he gets to meet and work with one of his favourite musicians. A pretty perfect deal, considering he’d be there to help the process along from behind the scenes all the way.

"Where is this guy?" Carver laments, sat next to Garrett with his arms across his chest and a sour expression on his face. "And people think we're obnoxious, at least we're on time."

Garrett chuckles at that, giving Carver a pat on the shoulder. Not even his brother’s incessant whining can affect him when his mood is so elated. "Save it for the cameras. Varric will be along with him any moment I'm sure."

* * *

Anders knew this was going to be a bad day from the moment he opened his eyes, specifically at his third alarm, after asleep Anders apparently decided to turn off the first two. Now awake Anders thinks asleep Anders may have had the right idea; the familiar building of the studio he's been doing most of his recordings at looms ahead of him, more of a threat than a sanctuary knowing what will be awaiting him inside.

His brief phone call with Bethany Hawke was pleasant. He even thinks he genuinely likes the young woman from the little they talked, but that does little to assuage his anxiety, or his distaste for the media circus that will be surrounding her, and by extension him, the whole time. 

He notices the burgundy 19:66 Mustang parked in front of the studio before he does its owner, who's leaning against the hood, arms crossed over his chest and foot tapping impatiently on the pavement. There was a time Anders would find the Varric Tethras Patented Look of Disapproval daunting, something he'd strive not to have directed at him, but right now it gives him a rush of petty satisfaction. He raises his hand and gives his manager a lazy wave, taking a sip from his iced coffee and maintaining his leisurely pace. Varric made him promise to behave, and Anders will, but he doesn't plan to start doing so until the cameras are rolling.

"Morning Varric," he drawls when he finally reaches the studio's entrance.

Now, Varric is a patient man, he has to be considering the lot he has signed up with him. For the past half hour he has sat waiting, with only Bianca keeping him company as he leaned gently against her hood, for a certain blonde who was already breaking his promises before the day even started in earnest.

At the sound of feet approaching, Varric turns fast to face the source. Anders' little wave, the lazy walk, the iced coffee; it’s exactly the bullshit he was expecting but that doesn’t lessen his annoyance, which seeps in his voice as he returns the sarcastic greeting in kind.

"Oh, Blondie, what a coincidence running into you here! Out for a stroll? How fun."

"Oh yes, fun," Anders bites back with a grin bitter enough that it makes the aftertaste of four unsweetened shots of espresso on his tongue feel sweet. "You know I get my kicks by being your personal dancing monkey. And some days I just wake up and think 'Maker, I wish my privacy was invaded for cheap brainless entertainment today', I really feel that's what I've been missing in my life."

"Oh, you're the dancing monkey? You should see the shit I pull to save your ass," Varric retorts, but his tone has softened along with the expression on his face. He feels for Anders, he really does, but this is a big opportunity for everyone involved that he simply couldn't let slip by.

With a head shake and a sigh, Varric pinches the bridge of his nose and rubs his eyes. "Does it help that they've okayed you swearing?" He looks up at Anders with a small smirk. "Your 'edgy bad boy' vibe is hot, apparently."

Anders' harsh expression softens despite himself. He knows Varric truly has his best interest at heart, and more importantly the dwarf didn't strong-arm him into this. He has no illusions as to how this business works, sometimes you have to swallow a bitter pill or twenty just to be allowed to do the work you _want_ to be doing. He sighs, shakes his head and gives Varric a more genuine smile, if not completely devoid of sarcasm.

"Edgy bad boy? Me?" Anders arches an eyebrow in genuine question. "I thought they have that position filled already. Or does that mean that I'm here to substitute for your golden boy?"

Anders doesn't really need to say Garret Hawke's name, they both know he's Varric's number one front page maker slash scandal instigator. He is also the Hawke sibling Anders is most glad he doesn't have to work with. _Well no, there is always that other one, Bethany's twin, Carter?_ He always forgets that one. Not that he watches the damn show regularly, but they do share a manager and Anders is curious enough to have looked them up before.

"Golden boy, huh?" Varric smirks at that, shaking his head in private amusement but he doesn’t comment, opting to move on. 

"You're the outspoken activist with a short temper and a sharp tongue. According to the network -and most other sources really- that makes you edgy. Come on Blondie, you actually like that don't you? No one’s asking you to act like anyone but you."

Even if Anders doesn't want to admit it, some of the coiled tension leaves his shoulders at Varric's reassurance.

"You don't have to resort to flattery, I've already agreed," he says with a small laugh. He adjusts the straps of the guitar case slung across his back and looks at the entrance with renewed resolve. "Let's get this over with then, shall we?"

Varric feels a little bad for not letting Anders in on everything- not that the stubborn little shit _actually_ ever asked. But he also feels secure in the knowledge that once inside, social constructs will keep Anders from running. 

"It'll be over before you know it," Varric reassures, giving Anders a little pat on the back. "But you're not walking in there more than half an hour late _with_ that coffee."

* * *

Inside the recording lounge the air is buzzing with energy, set crew cramped everywhere making their last minute adjustments, higher ups complaining quietly to each other about the delays. Carver and Bethany are in the booth, where she’s doing warm-up vocal exercises in the relative privacy of the sound-proofed space. And finally Garrett is keeping to himself, tapping an erratic rhythm with his foot, but otherwise just sitting back while he waits to turn it on for the cameras. Maybe that’s why he’s the first to notice Varric and Anders’ quiet, unobtrusive entrance. His chest immediately tightens with a mix of excitement and nervousness as the reality of it all sinks in; _aside from what shots they will have to get for the show, he and Bethany are going to get to talk in earnest about music! And with Anders of all people!_

For a few moments the overall chaos distracts Anders. He's used to composing alone and recording with a small team of producers and technicians, people who are not very loud by default. The noise and bustle feels foreign to the space, like someone opened the door and let a hurricane in, and he gives it half an hour tops before he starts getting the first of what he suspects will be a series of headaches. He notices Bethany behind the glass of the booth with someone who he's almost certain is her twin brother. The man's presence startles him. Varric didn't mention anything about him, and he can only hope he won't be staying for the actual session.

"There you are, Varric!" Garrett's voice carries loudly through the room, causing nearly everyone's attention to shift to the two newcomers.

Anders has just started leaning towards Varric to ask about the other twin’s presence when the loud greeting stops them in their tracks. What startles Anders the most isn't the volume or the sudden appearance of Garrett Hawke, but the fact that he missed him in the first place. The eldest Hawke sibling may be many things but subtle isn't one of them, that much even Anders knows. And indeed now that he's made his presence known it's nearly impossible to notice anything or anyone else in the room.

Anders suddenly feels the nervousness he'd only just put to rest creep up his back and stiffen his shoulders in a hard line. Part of him wants to bolt, to the Void with social conduct and their blighted agreement. But a bigger part is simply frozen in place, nearly overwhelmed by both anxiety and indignant anger at what he can only view as a deception on Varric's part, considering the dwarf’s lack of surprise at seeing the entire Hawke family gathered.

"Varric, what's that about?" he hisses under his breath, not really caring if someone overhears.

Before Varric can reply, Hawke reaches the two of them in a few brisk long strides. He really does light up a room; a ruggedly handsome man with the kind of dazzling smile that makes one hard to miss. Not to mention the way his voice carries, almost as if demanding to be listened to. His hand confidently shoots out toward Anders for a friendly shake. 

"Garrett Hawke, though I'm sure I don't need to introduce myself. Beth's been looking forward to this, we really appreciate you coming out today."

Anders goes through the motions of the handshake in a half daze. Whatever he expected, the genuine warmth in Hawke's voice and the earnestness in his smile are disarming. So much so that the snarky retort he usually has ready for the kind of person who says 'I am sure I need no introduction' fizzles and dies on his tongue, and the polite smile he remembers to plaster on his face comes almost naturally to him.

"Thank you for having me, I appreciate it," he replies, voice soft enough he's sure Varric will be doing a double take. And looking at the handsome, friendly man in front of him with his bright expression and warm brown eyes, he momentarily believes his own lie.

Garrett doesn’t notice how abnormally long their handshake lasts. He is lost in examining Anders’ face, realizing pictures don’t even come close to the real thing; his sharp jawline, his beautiful amber eyes, and his surprising height. Garrett has always been a sucker for tall men.

As Anders abruptly pulls his hand back, Garrett swallows hard and blinks himself back to reality, his own hand sliding smoothly into his own pocket, and he can only hope that no one noticed how caught up he just was. In moments like these he’s thankful that years of being in the spotlight taught him how to hold back a blush. 

Anders on the other hand can’t help the flush rising on his face when he realizes how long he’d been holding onto Garrett’s hand. _Varric asked for polite Anders, not for stupid Anders_ , he berates himself silently for a moment, glancing down at his feet. Then he clears his throat and looks back up at Garrett's face. It's starting to feel about as comfortable as staring into direct sunlight, and yet he finds himself unable to look away.

"So, will you be staying for the session too? And, um, Calvin?" Anders asks, aiming for an airy, mild conversational tone.

"Uh, Calvin?" Hawke tilts his head in confusion.

The realization of his blunder snaps Anders out of the strange, pleasant daze he found himself in, back into the cacophonous reality of his surroundings. He ducks his head and he can feel a full-on blush heating up his face that he desperately wants to will away. That's the kind of stupid mistake he can't afford to make in front of the camera, and it serves as a reminder to not let his guard down around those people.

"Your brother. Isn't that his name?" Anders replies, slipping behind the safety of a carefully fabricated aloof, dispassionate front. Normally he would hate how disingenuous and cold it comes off as, but right now he feels too exposed to care. 

"Maybe introductions are more necessary than you would think, hm?" he adds before he can stop himself, and he knows he is being unnecessarily snarky even before he feels Varric's subtle but sharp jab on his side.

Uncalled for are the words Garret would use to describe what just came out of Anders' mouth. It sounds cold and uncaring; a stark, jarring contrast to Garrett’s own expectations. It takes him by complete surprise, his mouth slipping into a slight ‘o’ as he re-evaluates their very short interaction for an explanation. His tone was clearly tongue-in-cheek when making the 'no need for introductions’ joke.

"Ah, I see." Garrett's lips curl up into his signature obnoxious smirk, sheer reflex at this point. "Can't take a joke or remember a name, I'll be sure to be more considerate of your sensitivities."

Anders knows he may have crossed the line a bit, but he didn’t do anything more than throw Hawke's own words back at him, and with good cause too judging by the infuriating expression and the mocking tone the man so easily slipped into. So much for faking cordiality, and right now that suits Anders just fine.

"Oh no, you don't have to go so far as to introduce foreign concepts such as 'being considerate' or 'sensitivity' so late in life on my behalf," he retorts, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

He utilises the good few centimetres he has on Hawke to give him his most condescending 'I-am-literally-looking-down-on-you' look, tilting his head and furrowing his brow in a mockery of pity before adding: "I wouldn't want you to hurt your brand for something as trivial as basic decency."

That look alone is enough to burn Garrett up inside. Combined with the insinuation that he has no decency? Too far. It feels like all the admiration and respect he had for the man just flew out the door with that. 

A short, loud, and aggressive “ha!” leaves his mouth as he steps forward into Anders' personal space. He crosses his arms over his chest and his head tilts, never once breaking their now intense eye contact. He is going to make it damn clear that Anders’ sudden intimidating, morally superior act is not shaking him in the slightest.

"How cute, I'm being lectured by a man that's a certified asshole on Twitter on his daily life. Look bud, don't you worry about my brand. You're only here because my brand is going to sav-"

Hawke is cut off by a sharp jab to his gut from Varric, whose original amusement has now morphed into alarmed irritation. He shoots Garrett a warning look and mouths 'enough'.

Anders doesn't need Hawke to finish his sentence to get where it’s going. No, if anything, for a man who makes a living largely by being a sharp-tongued asshole on national TV, Garrett Hawke really doesn't seem to be able to throw at Anders anything that he hasn't already told himself. The anger he felt so hot and blinding a moment ago evaporates as quickly and abruptly as it came on, leaving behind it only weariness and the first throbbing notes of a headache that will reach its crescendo soon if he doesn't stem it.

He sighs. Even if he did consider it low to stoop to appearing on reality TV to help his sales, he won't allow himself to be insulted for it by the very man who's made it his entire career. And he's never seen popularity as its own reward anyway. If anything, he often thinks he was happier when he played for small crowds in dive bars and obscure self-organized queer festivals, even if he didn't always make rent those days.

He snaps himself from his melancholic little reverie when he realizes both men's gazes are now fixed on him, one scathing and one mildly concerned. He entirely avoids Hawke's eyes, knowing that whatever he found at first captivating and then inflammatory in them will now just leave him feeling even more drained and empty, and he gives Varric a barely there grateful smile for his intervention. Because grateful he is, even if it's for different reasons than the dwarf probably assumes. Anders can live with the harsh things people say to him, but not so much with the harsh things he can say to people.

"I'll go give Bethany the feedback I promised over the phone on those demos she sent," he says mildly, before turning and walking towards the booth.

Garrett holds his tongue at first as Anders turns his back on him, feeling sour from Varric’s jab and fuming over the insults. _Why does he get to just walk away, after he started the spat?_ Garrett is used to being the asshole, but usually it’s his choice, not a position he’s put in because of someone’s bullshit show of superiority.

The bitterness rises in him like bile as his eyes scan around the room. He sees not one, but two cameras on him. He connects the dots, figures they've got the beginning of the fight, so why not give them a _proper_ ending and expose this guy as the condescending dick he obviously is in the process?

"You sure you want to lower your standards like that?" he starts, very loudly. "Since our little show here, and all we do is apparently so beneath you. What’s it like being better than the rest of us?"

"Garrett!" Bethany shouts from the doorway to the booth, finally summoned by the loud racket. The frown on her face is enough to make Garrett’s stomach churn with guilt.

Anders is taken aback by the new outburst. He'd felt sufficiently chastised when Hawke was the first to back down at Varric's urging; the man's restraint was actually what made his own anger deflate. But more than that, in that moment he becomes more acutely aware of the scrutiny surrounding him than he's been the whole time he's been here. Between the Hawke twins bursting out of the booth, and the pair of cameras fixed on them that Anders now realizes with a sickening lurch of his stomach must have been rolling this whole time, he suddenly feels light headed. The desire to fight is drowned out by a much stronger desire to flee, to be anywhere but here right now.

He slowly turns to face Hawke, letting himself take a few deep, calming breaths before he opens his mouth to reply. He isn't sure himself which of the retorts swirling in his head will find its way on his tongue first, not until the last second.

"I wouldn't know." Three simple words, painfully honest and spoken softly, with no ounce of either sarcasm or self-pity.

He is fully turned now but he can't make himself meet Garrett's eyes. He isn't sure if it's an act of cowardice or self preservation at this point. He isn't sure he cares either way.

"May I step out for a moment?" Anders asks, unsure of whose permission exactly he's seeking, entirely aware he actually won't wait for it to be granted anyway.

And indeed no one says anything to him as he slips past a throng of crew members who quickly step aside, to make his way to the studio's back entrance.

* * *

Anders lets muscle memory lead him out of the recording area, through familiar corridors, all the way to the back emergency exit, his mind occupied with replaying the argument he just ran from in painstaking detail. When he finally exits into the empty alley behind the studio building he feels like he can finally breathe again. The cool autumn air feels good on his face, even laden as it is with the smell of exhaust and an unidentifiable acrid note that's so distinctly Kirkwall it almost feels like home.

Furious cannot describe how Bethany feels in the moment. Without context she instantly assumed that Garrett was the cause of the argument that was clearly more than just acting for TV, and she gave her older brother a quick earful as Anders stormed off. Panic sets heavy and leaden in her gut at the very idea of her idol walking away from this before she even got to speak with him. Her feet carry her to follow after Anders faster than her brain can process any of her thoughts. All she knows is that whatever Garrett's done she is going to fix it and hopefully salvage some kind of relationship. 

Anders unstraps the guitar case from his back and leans against the wall. He fishes around the front pocket until his fingers close around a loose blister pack of ibuprofen. He quickly dry-swallows two pills, and hopes they will be enough to stop him from getting a tension headache. However, he knows ibuprofen won't do much for his shot nerves, or the shaking that's threatening to take over his hands. With a resigned groan he shoves his hand back into his case and fishes out a battered, nearly empty pack of week-old stale cigarettes. He couldn't care less about that right now, as he shakes one out and lets it dangle from his lips for a moment while he pats down his many coat pockets for a leftover lighter. He locates one with a triumphant muffled little noise, and it's only at the first deep drag that his nervousness finally truly subsides, tension expelled along with a lungful of smoke.

It's also only then that another nagging sensation registers; the unmistakable feeling of another presence tugging at the edge of his senses and willing him to turn his head to his left, towards the fire exit he never closed behind him.

Bethany stopped fast in the doorway to the emergency exit in time to see Anders fumbling with his pack of cigarettes. His little grunt of celebration at finding his lighter made her giggle softly to herself, not loud enough for him to hear, and she watched him for a moment, trying to plan the perfect thing to say. Her plans are cut short and her anxiety at being unprepared spikes as he suddenly turns his head towards her, so she speaks without thinking.

"Not stalking you, I didn't bring any cameras!" She tries for a reassuring smile but it reads sheepish at best. "Sorry, I... please don't leave!"

Anders expected to see Varric, or a pissed off producer, or -Maker forbid- Garrett Hawke attempting to push the fight further, and it gives him a jolt of surprise and relief when he sees Bethany standing there. The young woman's nervous reassurances and her apologetic tone quickly dismiss the notion that she’s here to defend her older brother. His relief is clear on his face when he confirms that indeed no camera crew has followed her.

He takes another drag of his cigarette to steel his nerves enough to stifle the rising guilt in his chest; he is the one who started this and he should be the one apologizing to them. He gives her a sheepish little lopsided smile of his own, before shrugging and replying.

"I don't know if I could leave even if I wanted to." He leans slightly closer in a conspiratory way and gives a theatrical look around before adding: "I don't think there's anywhere to go where Varric wouldn't find me."

Bethany steps out tentatively, her hands clasped in front of her and fingers fidgeting. Sensing him relax she drops the tension in her shoulders, but she continues to proceed with caution. Still, a soft laugh passes her lips at his joke at their seemingly omniscient manager’s expense.

"He does seem to be able to know pretty much everything, huh?" She smiles in earnest now as her hands drop to her sides and she nervously shifts from foot to foot.

"I wanted to say sorry, for Garrett. He gets like this sometimes and doesn't really mean it." A defeated sign follows.

Anders feels guilt twist in his gut at her apology, even as part of him wants to say nothing, to let her believe it was entirely Garrett's fault and sweep his own liability under the rug. A moot point, as the entire altercation was most likely filmed. He tries to banish that thought, at this point he can only hope Varric will do his best to protect his already suffering reputation. Still, even if there was no proof Anders doesn't think he could take advantage of the situation, not with how earnest and weary Bethany sounds. She of all people doesn't deserve this whole mess.

"He's not..." Anders trails off and tries again, carefully picking his words. "It wasn't his fault. I started it, made some needlessly cruel remarks." 

He turns away from her, lowers his head and fixes his gaze on the dirty gravel and the scuffed tips of his boots. "I didn't really mean it either but here we are."

The confusion Bethany feels is clear in her expression, the nervous shifting halting as she looks up at his face. It’s the first time she really takes him in up close. Her eyes widen in realization of her situation; her inspiration and the man who’s words helped her countless times through her life is standing right in front of her, real, and human, and as kind as she had always thought him to be, apologizing for what had to be her brother’s fault. She begins to shake her head, hating the idea of Anders feeling the need to apologize about anything.

“No, no, he has a tendency to go overboard! You are supposed to be our guest and not five minutes in he manages to take issue with someone like you?” She sounds equally firm in her conviction and pleading. “I’ll speak to Varric for you, Garrett doesn’t have to be here if he’s made you uncomfortable.”

Anders' head snaps up at the suggestion, a flash of horror showing on his face despite himself. 

"No please I- You really don't have to do that!" He holds his palms up in a placating gesture, cigarette dangling forgotten between his left index and forefinger. "Listen, we both said some things we shouldn't have before you stepped out of that booth."

He can tell by her words that Bethany has already made up her mind about him, and the fact that it's in his favour for once does little to erase the awkwardness of finding himself in that position. If anything, having so much misplaced faith and kindness directed his way makes the guilt in his chest grow more suffocating. 

"I'm just not used to this kind of set-up and the pressure got to me," Anders admits, the words tumbling out of him unbidden, nearly as urgent and apologetic as Bethany's plea.

"And to think Varric made me promise not to start a fight today," he adds with a self depreciating little laugh.

Even when Anders’ words sound honest, Bethany remains unconvinced that Garrett isn’t the sole guilty party, but now her panic is fading. Anders is still here, that was her main goal, and after his confession she’s feeling confident that he’s willing to give them another chance, hopefully one that no one will so thoughtlessly throw away this time.

“It’s very sweet of you to take your share of the blame. I’m sure it was a misunderstanding then.” Her smile brightens even further, turning into her ‘Sunshine’ smile as Varric called it years ago when she first got the nickname from him. “I’ve been looking forward to working with you, I’m glad my obnoxious brothers didn’t completely ruin it.”

The objections Anders was preparing to her words die in his throat at the sight of the bright, hopeful smile she gives him. Even if he thinks she's wrong, even as he knows she's biased, he can't bring himself to ruin this for her. No, in fact the least he can do is to try and humour her. Anders recognizes when he has no power over the worth people decide to give him, and when it's so much more than he actually deserves the only thing he can do is to try and live up to it. He returns her smile, if with only a fraction of the warmth and light she so effortlessly musters.

"I was excited to work with you as well," Anders says, and for once it's not a lie. For all his reluctance with the whole setup, Bethany's demos and the potential he saw in them were a big part of what made him agree.

He is not aware of the exact details of her contractual obligations, but Varric said in no uncertain terms that a collaboration would be the only way for her to be able to release her songs. And of course the actual musicians among Varric’s clients are few enough, that in the end it comes down to him.

"I didn't really prepare anything because I wanted to discuss the tone with you rather than assume. But there was a lot of range in what you sent me and many angles I could definitely work with!" Actual excitement flares up and seeps into his tone as he shifts the subject to music, the one thing that can always both soothe and distract him without fail.

Bethany’s heart is racing, a blush creeping onto her cheeks when Anders mentions her demo. There’s been so much uncertainty, so many people that have tried -kindly or not so kindly- to talk her out of this, steer her in a different direction; ‘I just don’t know if music is _your_ thing sweetheart, you are not your mother and that’s not a bad thing’. Now her brain buzzes as Anders’ kind words validate every single step she has taken up to this point just to be _allowed_ to be here.

She snaps back to reality, realizing that there’s been about half a minute of silence between them as he has stopped talking and is waiting for her reply. In true Hawke fashion, she giggles nervously and pulls in a sharp breath.

Anders watches Bethany closely as her expression grows far away for a few seconds, anxious he somehow said something wrong with her too. But then her face fills with so much unrestrained joy and a happy if goofy little laugh escapes her lips, and Anders suddenly realizes this may all be worth it.

“You were excited to work with… _me_?” Is all Bethany can manage with puppy dog eyes threatening to fill with happy tears any moment now.

She shakes her head a second later and looks down at her feet as embarrassment washes over her. She covers her face with her hand and takes in another deep breath. A moment later she’s back to her sunshine smile like nothing happened. “I have lots of ideas! I can show you my notebook inside.” 

Anders remembers what it's like to be young and hopeful and desperate for the right person's approval. And Maker it's strange to even consider he may be that person for anyone, but he won't let himself fuck it up. He also remembers he was never quite as smooth about it, and an amused but good natured smile pulls at the corners of his lips as he watches her composure slide back into place.

"That sounds lovely," he replies earnestly, the prospect sounding leagues better than a lecture from Varric or more inane televised arguments. "And we might as well go back inside before they decide to send a search party.”

He feels a jolt of hopeful elation at the excited nod he receives for his suggestion. He picks up his guitar case and slings him, more loosely over one shoulder before following Bethany’s retreating form back inside the studio.

* * *


	2. Heretic Pride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A heart-to-heart is forcibly had, a song is played, and a heated moment is rudely interrupted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Titular song (and song featured) for this chapter [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VZ6O7Jk4MXs&ab_channel=ItMightBeMusic)

Watching Blondie storm out, Varric realized this whole mess could very well be his fault. He had been keeping his eye out for what he’d considered more a certainty than a possibility: Hawke would inevitably turn on his obnoxious TV persona, Blondie would let a comment or two slip by because he promised, and then he would explode anyway. So focused on avoiding that, Varric didn’t consider that Hawke isn’t the only one who has developed an unpleasant defensive public persona, or that Blondie isn’t the only one with a quick explosive temper. 

He worried for Anders of course, anyone would after watching this, but he also knew how Garrett truly felt about today's meeting, so he couldn’t help a pang of empathy even as he watched him completely ignore his warning and push things way further than they needed to go.

Andraste's ass but he has a soft spot for those boys, Blondie isn’t off the mark about this, even when he conveniently forgets to include himself in the list.

The moment his nasty final words left Garrett’s mouth his world froze around him. Anders shut down completely and stormed out, leaving Garrett standing there, immobilized by the weight of his own actions, to get yelled at by his own baby sister. Her words barely register as his mind falls in and out self deprecating thoughts. He knew the personality he’s built was bigger than him, he’d just been deluded into believing that he controlled it, and not the other way around. 

The proof to back his self-deprecation comes next. Bethany runs after Anders, and suddenly he feels more exposed then he ever has in his long-time televised life. He caused a stir, a juicy scene for the adoring public, and now he is expected to deliver a Garrett Hawke style resolution. The room is awkwardly silent, all eyes on Garrett, waiting for him to do something. And like the dancing monkey he’s resigned himself to be, he will dance beautifully for the cameras trained on him. 

Varric is about to offer Garrett a moment to cool down, considering the whole fiasco over at Bethany’s exit.  _ Scene! Now we can go back to acting like grown ups. _ But apparently Hawke isn't quite done, and he beats him to the punch.

“What an overrated douche.” Garrett’s words feel sour in his mouth as he says them, but he can’t stop himself. “Who does he think he’s talking to? Varric, where did you find this absolute joke?”

Varric isn't sure what infuriates him more about Hawke’s words, the fact that they're bordering on gratuitous cruelty, or the fact that they're spoken in front of the camera and behind Anders' back. Whichever it is, it's sufficient to push the empathy he'd felt for Garrett's position to the very back of his head.

"You, filming is over!" he directs to the two camera men, and he knows they know better than to ignore him, especially when that rare angry edge seeps into his voice. Then he turns to Hawke.

Garrett drops his act the moment the cameras are turned off, and his shoulders sag in defeat. He doesn’t dare to actually look at Varric, whose eyes are thankfully easy to avoid with their height difference, but it’s in vain. He feels the burning heat from Varric’s disapproving glare on him like fire. He thinks that maybe he should actually be set on fire for the shit he pulls.

"Hawke, a word." Varric’s voice is clipped, and to anyone else in the room it could sound like a mere suggestion. It is not. He turns and walks from the room, knowing Hawke will follow.

His manager’s tone sends a shiver through Garrett’s entire body. For a man who seldom gets mad, when he does it’s absolutely terrifying. Varric doesn’t simply make you feel bad, he drives it home that you are bad, and that hurts Garrett more than anything. Not that he feels like arguing against it; anything Bethany or Varric can say to him now is nothing compared to the self admonishing he’ll have flooding his brain the moment he is alone. 

He rubs his eyes clear of the small tears forming in the corners, and he shoves all his thoughts aside, knowing that he is in for his second scolding in only five minutes. A hysterical little chuckle escapes his lips,  _ that has got to be a new record _ . Shaking his head, Garrett follows Varric out.

The short walk feels like a march to the gallows, the closing of the door behind them like the hatch falling open to let him plummet to his end. Even now, alone, Garrett’s refusal to look at Varric continues. He takes a seat in the first chair he comes across and deflates. His shoulders and head hang heavy, lips pressed into a tight line to keep from wobbling, and palms pressed firmly against his own knees.

“Varric I-”

“Save it," Varric snaps, his irritation and disappointment pouring into those two words.

But then as he takes in Garrett's state, it becomes increasingly difficult to hold onto his anger. Calling him a wreck right now would be an understatement. Even after so many years of knowing him, Varric is still taken aback sometimes by the stark difference between the face Hawke puts on for the cameras, and how he is in private. Andraste knows he's talked and held him through enough breakdowns to recognize the signs now, from the curve of his shoulders to the shuddering quality of each heavy breath. He has a few choice things to say to Hawke about today, but he can't find it in him to just kick the man when he's down.

He sighs heavily, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger for a moment before he pulls up a chair of his own, close enough to Garrett to be within reach, and he climbs onto it with a huff.

"Kid, what in the Void just happened in there?" His voice is gentler now, if weary, and he makes sure there's no urgency in his inquiry. If Hawke needs his time to collect himself he can have it.

Garrett curls further into himself. His elbows brace on his knees, forearms pressed against his temples and hands gripped together around the back of his neck. How is he even going to answer Varric’s question? His brain is buzzing, fighting to simultaneously forget what just happened and figure out why it did. It feels as though he blacked out, triggered by the simple knowledge that he was being filmed. His words did not feel like his own, yet here he is having to own them.

The anxiety swells again in Garrett’s chest, a pounding wave that tries its hardest to make him break. All he can think about is Anders’ resigned voice, his defeated look as he hurried to be as far away as possible from him. He let his persona ruin what was most likely his only chance to get to know the man whose music means the world to him. And that final remark, it was cruel and cold, and horribly untrue. He’s been practically begging Varric to set this up ever since the idea was brought to the table.

“I’m an absolute idiot, how’s that for a start?” Garrett’s tone is a dazed monotone, reflective of his internal state. “It just… happened.”

Any other time, Varric would call bullshit. But he can hear the absolute resignation in Hawke’s voice, and he wishes he was merely bullshitting rather than absolutely convinced of his own powerlessness.

"Good start," he says, his tone gentle despite the teasing, "but the rest could use a bit of work." Before Hawke has a chance to reply, he continues, voice sobering up. "Hawke, I'm in your corner, always. What happened earlier doesn't change that. Nothing will change that." 

He tries to meet Garret's eyes, because he needs to make sure that he understands this before he pushes any further.

With a few deep breaths Garrett finds the courage to lift his head and meet Varric’s gaze. The support is harder to take, somehow, than the reprimanding he expected. He feels undeserving of it when he is the one causing his own problems. This wasn’t a scripted event, they didn’t even mean to start filming so soon, but something about how quickly Anders became snarky with him hit a nerve. Still, he was the one that took it too far, he was the one that just had to salt the wound.

“This shit is really starting to catch up with me.” Garrett feels like a wall collapses as the words leave him. “I can’t even defend myself, I was out of line and I knew it the whole time. I couldn’t stop myself.”

Tears well up at his waterline, but with another deep breath he manages to maintain composure. “Be honest, is this fixable? For Bethany at least?”

Varric is taken aback, he didn't expect this kind of honesty to be so easy to get out of Garrett in this state.

"Blon- Anders may be difficult, but he's not unreasonable. He won't take this out on Bethany," he says, and this much he can affirm even without assessing the damage on the other side. The hopeful look Garrett directs at him is enough to know it was the right thing to say.

Varric takes a moment to consider his options, whether pushing further will make or break this. He settles with a heavy breath, he never was one for ignoring problems and hoping they would politely go away because of it. No, experience has taught him that those things only blow up in your face around the corner.

"Right now I'm more worried about you. You wanted this as much as Bethany did, and I know Blondie isn't at his best behaviour when he's anxious, but I really didn't think he pushed you that hard, or I’d have stepped in earlier. Say the word and I'll have you off the project; the two of them can manage."

Garrett nods along in agreement to every word, feeling smaller and smaller with each passing second. The sickening feeling in his stomach returns at the suggestion of having him leave the project. He was willing to only seconds ago, yet now his heart sinks at the very thought of it coming to that.

Varric sighs, testing the weight of what he's about to say next on his tongue.

"Or I can try to help you patch things up. But I gotta know what's truly the best option for you. I won't have you breaking down from too much pressure, no matter what those bozos at the network may want. And I won't have you taking it out on Blondie either, because I'm in his corner too."

“If it's fixable and I can stay, I’d prefer that.” Garrett nearly cuts the end of Varric’s sentence off. He will behave himself no matter the pressure, that’s his job.

“I’ll apologize, grovel, whatever you think it’ll take,” he pleads.  _ Nice and pathetic of you, Garrett _ , he admonishes himself internally.

"I don't think you'll have to go as far as groveling," Varric says, the side of his mouth twitching in an amused smirk. Deep down Blondie is absolutely the type to appreciate a bit of groveling, but he won't be getting any until he also learns to behave himself, Varric decides.

"No groveling, Varric knows best." Garrett puts his hands up in fake surrender, letting himself smile a bit as Varric's smirk appears.

Varric’s expression turns stern when he regards Garrett again. Words are one thing, and they've always come easy to the eldest Hawke sibling. Garrett’s hands and face drop instantly, but Varric cannot let this go just yet.

"Promising me now is all well and good, but I need to know you won't lose control again the moment the cameras start rolling. Getting this worked up isn't good for you, and you will leave me no choice but to pull you if I see you this distressed again." Varric’s words sound grave, but what he witnessed back there was more than the usual Hawke antics, and he won't put anything over his clients' mental health, including their own express wishes.

Garrett hears Varric's genuine and well founded concern, but the sudden elation from having a second chance is what fills his mind, propelling him on. He will not let this happen again, it’s a promise he makes to himself in this moment. It has to have been a misunderstanding, something Garrett can fix. Or rather, something he has to fix. 

"It was an one time event, promise." His voice has confidence again. "I'll, uuh, start smoking again when the pressure gets really up there? Perfect solution, I’ll call Merrill up, you like Merrill."

Varric considers that for a moment. It's not a ‘perfect solution’, but it is a safe compromise he can agree to. He nods, and then pauses for a second. Letting those two loose to figure it out themselves has backfired spectacularly once already, and it’s become obvious that they need supervision. Varric knows that between the two of them, despite his earlier display Hawke is the one more likely to actually follow direction; Blondie is exactly like the damn cats he likes so much, he might appear calmer but he simply isn't wired to obey anyone but his own whims.

"Alright, but if you want this to work you will do what I say from now on. Apologising would be a good place to start, but you should probably hold back a bit when we get back out there.” He licks his lips almost nervously before he continues. “See, when I said Blondie is not unreasonable, I rather meant he won't be unreasonable in the near future, after I have a talk with him first. That good?"

Garrett gives a quick nod. He wants this to work, and as much as he tells himself it’s for Beth, it’s really as much for his own self. A small chance for the future is better than nothing, and he’s willing to bank on some good luck and a smooth talking mediator. 

"Have I mentioned today how much I love you?" Hawke pulls Varric into a tight embrace, if only just to soften him up a bit through embarrassment. "What would I do without my emotional support dwarf?"

Varric returns the hug, giving Hawke a playful pat on the back. "Crash and burn, obviously."

He pulls back after a few moments with a genuine smile on his face. He's fixed worse before. Flames, Blondie starts bigger shitstorms from his living room with just his phone, and he's been writing Garrett's formal apologies for years. It's just that right now the roles of prosecutor and defendant are all blurred, and on one hand it complicates things, on the other the best way to build a bridge is working from both sides.

"Okay Hawke, time to face the music," he says before he opens the door to the corridor that will lead them back to the recording lounge.

* * *

Varric walks ahead of Hawke, mentally bracing for every probability, from Anders having fled to him having decided to come back riled up and ready for round two. Every probability, it seems, except for the scene that greets them back at the lounge. The very air is different from when they left. To say the awkwardness and tension have cleared would be an understatement, there's a pleasant sense of calm in the rhythm at which work seems to have resumed fully. But it's the scene at the epicentre of it all that nearly makes Varric pinch himself to make sure he's not dreaming it up.

Garrett's head hung low as they walked back into the lounge. He expected awkward tension, definitely some hostility, and maybe even some harsh words. When he dares look up, it’s a completely unexpected scene that greets him. Anders and Bethany both returned at some point while he was speaking to Varric, and they're now sitting on one of the leather couches, pouring over an open notebook at the low table in front of them. A single camera is rolling, but there is no sound equipment recording them, so it's nothing more than potential montage shots. 

Bethany is holding her guitar and she's showing Anders some sort of chord progression, her entire face glowing with happiness and pride even as she's entirely focused on her task. Anders watches attentively, with a small smile on his face, his entire posture open and relaxed. He is absently drumming a little tempo with his fingertips against his knee and Garrett can tell even from a distance that he's humming some sort of tune to Bethany's strumming. He dares to feel a twinge of excitement and warmth in his chest at the sight. At one of Bethany’s suggestions Anders’ face breaks into an excited grin and he leans forward to jot something on the notebook.

That's what makes him notice Varric and Hawke standing across the room from them, and his smile instantly falls to be replaced by open-faced wariness. His posture tenses and he shoots Varric a look that could be questioning or pleading. Bethany takes note of the sudden change and she follow's Anders' gaze. Her eyes pass over Varric, and her brow furrows instantly when she spots her brother. She places a hand on Anders' shoulder, glaring at Garrett the whole while, and the blonde seems to relax a fraction at that.

Garrett knows he deserves it, both Anders’ wariness and Bethany’s hostility, and yet they don’t sting any less for it. He wishes he could make himself smaller in that moment, that he wasn’t the cacophonous presence that dashed the pleasant atmosphere in the space. For all the good wishing does.

Varric has dealt with post-argument Anders many times. He can be vindicated, guilt-ridden, residually angry, or absolutely drained. He can force himself to act courteous if not properly polite. But what he has never seen him be is so calm, and he knows he's not capable of faking it. Whatever Bethany said seems to have made him more placid than Varric could ever hope to achieve, and suddenly a new plan forms in his head as he realises he may not need to face this uphill struggle alone. He gives Bethany and Anders what he knows is his most reassuring smile before taking a step back to stand next to Garrett.

"Alright champ, new plan, there's no time like the present," he says rather more confidently than he feels, before giving Hawke a nudge forward, sending a little prayer to whomever may be listening that this goes better than last time.

"Wait, wait, but..." Hawke pushes back hesitantly but Varric shoves him forward regardless, without another word, completely and utterly unprepared. His shoulder tense as he approaches, the pressure increasing with Anders and Bethany staring him down with rightfully wary, upset expressions.

Anders found himself relaxing without even realizing it, between Bethany's friendly, warm energy and getting absorbed in their work. Tension filled his body when he saw Varric approach, Garret Hawke in tow. Admittedly he'd hoped the man simply decided to go home after the stunt he pulled, but Anders has never been so lucky. Earlier with Bethany he was apologetic, ready to assume responsibility. But now at the sight of the man alone he knows he can't follow through with it. What can he even say?  _ Hey, I am so very sorry for snarking you a bit, it makes sense you would lash out at me like a rabid dog, my bad _ . No, he has more pride than that, he always did.

Hawke looks chastised as he approaches, timid even, but his temper already took a wild turn once, so Anders stands up rigidly and crosses his arms, bracing for the worst even as he keeps his expression neutral.

"Anders, I was hoping you'd give me a chance to apologize. Or I can leave, whatever you're comfortable with. I was..." Garrett pauses and sighs, any confidence he had draining from him completely.

"I was out of line, I am very sorry." Garrett feels defeat settle over him, he fully expects Anders to gladly take him up on the offer of disappearing. His only consolation is watching Bethany's guard drop and her expression soften. She gives her brother a smile of encouragement, returning a small amount of hope to Garrett's mind.

The earnest apology is entirely unexpected, and Anders’ bewilderment is surely written all over his face. He keeps himself from jumping on the man's offer to simply leave, as much as part of him wants to. He lets his arms fall loose on his sides, his brow furrowing as he searches for the right words, with Garrett's apologetic ones hanging heavy in the air between them.

Garret knew this would be difficult, but he hadn’t expected how much. Standing face to face with Anders now, he waits with bated breath. He watches the taller man’s expression soften, jaw unclenched and eyes less fierce. Little by little hope fills the aching cavity of his chest as he does his best to keep a calm expression and not let any sort of emotion sweep him away again.

"I... was not expecting this," Anders finally says somewhat lamely, still trying to process how he even feels about the whole thing. His own guilt at his role as instigator jumps at him first, and he decides he might as well run with it. 

"I am sorry too, I made some unnecessarily harsh comments." He looks away for a moment, then down at his feet and finally at Garrett's face. And damn him to the void, but he can't help but soften at the tentative hope he sees blooming there. 

When Anders apologises as well Garrett's thrown off guard, stepping back unintentionally as if the gentle words have a physical weight behind them; one that manages to shake him where the harsh ones earlier couldn’t. Garrett fails to tame the next wave of shimmering hope that rushes over him and his lips turn up in a small smile, identical in some ways to the excited grin Bethany was wearing when he and Varric walked in.

"You don't... You don't have to leave." Anders swallows hard, wondering if his words will come to bite him in the face later. "Apology accepted."

Garrett takes a moment to let that truly sink in. His elation is counterbalanced by caution as he searches for the right way to respond. In lieu of finding one he latches onto an earlier comment, one that feels harmless enough to broach.

"It would seem I do the unexpected a lot." A sheepish chuckle follows. " I'm working on it."

Garrett takes a deep inhale, his own gaze diverting to the floor, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. There is still some awkwardness in the air but he can’t complain, this is going much better for him then he ever hoped. He pushes down his growing smile, clears his throat, and looks back up to Anders. 

"I appreciate you apologizing, but I'll take the fall. I'll save you the excuses and let you get back to Bethany, she's the important one."

Anders can't help but agree with Garrrett’s assessment of himself.  _ Unexpected indeed _ . Not so much his offer to "take the fall", considering that's something he set his own self up for, but rather what follows right after. Anders' preconceived image of Hawke as a self-absorbed prick had only been reinforced, but he sounds absolutely sincere when he says Bethany is the important one. In fact, the admission almost sounds self depreciating, which makes Anders’ brow furrow as a deep sense of uncertainty takes root in him. Bethany's timely interjection saves him from either an awkward silence or possibly blurting something he'll only regret later.

"Look, we're all friendly again, so there's no need for that!" She stands to speak and places herself just slightly behind Anders, bringing a hand up to lightly hold his forearm. While most do not take well to being touched by people they’ve just met, in their short time together she’s come to realize that the opposite applies to Anders; he's a naturally tactile person who relaxes into small, grounding points of casual contact.

"Garrett is my audio engineer, all my demos were mixed by him! He'll be heading that up for this project as well," Bethany proudly boasts, hoping to earn her brother some points now that he seems to have decided to behave.

Anders feels genuine surprise at the information Bethany offers up that Varric had so conveniently forgotten to mention. He gives the dwarf a quick, narrow eyed look and then he turns his attention back to Hawke.

"You produced those? They're... I didn't expect something so polished when Bethany called them 'unofficial demos' over the phone." He can hear his slightly begrudging admiration seeping into his voice. In some ways, Anders never stopped being the wide eyed eighteen year old boy who stepped into a recording studio for the first time.

Garret finds himself taken aback by the rush of emotions that follow Anders’ compliment, even when it’s given so tentatively. It means the world to hear something he's produced be called polished, when the best he considers himself an amateur with a good ear. His heart swells with pride the longer he thinks about it.

"Um, so I suppose that makes you my producer too for this," Anders says after a beat of silence. It's an awkward thought that he isn't sure how to feel about, and he is sure his awkwardness shows externally, even as he barely resists the urge to shift his weight from one leg to the other.

Anders’ tone shift makes the budding warmth in Garrett’s chest extinguish as abruptly as it came on.  _ Anders didn’t know about my involvement and he sounds put off by it,  _ he realizes. The emotional whiplash from his mood swinging so wildly from pride and elation to cold disappointment leaves him numb. 

"I don't have to be if it bothers you," Garrett immediately offers up. "I just want you and Beth to be able to do this, I swear." He holds his hands up in surrender.

"No, no! I didn't mean-" Anders mirrors Hawke's motion, shaking his head somewhat frantically as if to dispel the notion. He isn't sure why, a few moments ago he was wishing for that outcome and now, the more Hawke himself offers the out, the less he finds himself wanting to accept it.

"I'm bad at this," he blurts out, sighing and lowering his hands. "Maker, the fighting was easier, I have a lot more practice with it." There's a sad self depreciating note in his words now, words he shouldn't even be saying in front of everyone, even if the crew explained that they'd be filming with no sound earlier.

At Anders’ admission Garrett feels the tension between them dissipate like morning mist. His own raised hands drop as Anders’ do, and a small laugh flutters out as he nods in agreement at his comment on fighting. 

"You work well together, as family, I wouldn't want to get in the way of that," Anders adds and there’s something deeply melancholic in his voice, just for a moment, as his thoughts turn inwards and threaten going down an unpleasant path.

Garrett feels his eyes wandering, drinking in the details of the man that he’s starting to piece together, one small bit at a time; the way he sometimes holds himself in a defeated slouch, as if he believes he shouldn't take up space, or his golden eyes that seem to look through you but not past. He's a handsome man, Garrett never denied that, but it’s so much more obvious now as they stand face to face.

Take the cameras away, the glamour and the filters and the magic of it all, and everyone becomes more ragged, flawed even under layers of designer clothes and professional make-up. But the effect only seems to add to, rather than detract from Anders’ appeal. From the tired lines and faint bruises under his eyes to the light shadow of stubble on his jaw that could be a vanity choice or a lazy remainder, but either way it suits him well.

Anders once more becomes aware of having gotten absorbed in his thoughts and of the stretching silence between them. He shakes his head and focuses instead on the man in front of him. Garrett Hawke, with his larger than life reputation and his infuriatingly handsome face, now twisted in the strangest mix of sadness and hope -a tired hope, bruised and battered but hope nevertheless. And even as that makes something twist under his ribcage, Anders finds it impossible to look away. He's always been one to be captivated by all the wrong things, car wrecks and burning chantries, structures giving way to chaos and ashes.

"You don't bother me," he mutters, his mouth feeling way too dry all of a sudden.

It’s hardly a compliment, and yet Garrett melts at Anders’ words, an almost ridiculous giddiness springing up in his gut, playful but somewhat daunting like the butterflies on the first day of school. 

"I'm very glad for that," he says, an unrestrained grin breaking out on his face. "Contrary to what my earlier behaviour indicated, I'm a big fan. I appreciate this a lot."

There's something dangerously infectious about Garrett's smile; warm, winning, and on just the right side of cheeky. Anders offers a weak smile of his own in return, a lopsided, tired thing. Then Hawke's words once again manage to shock the expression off his face, leaving behind only a faint blush and a surprised exhale.

Anders never found a truly good reply to ‘I'm a fan’, nothing that doesn't feel either conceited or self pitying. "That's, um, really? Thank you so much," he manages, now acutely aware of the heat on his face.

"Oh yeah," Bethany pipes up, suddenly reminding Anders of her presence and of the presence of everyone else in the room with them. "We almost included a cover of 'Heretic Pride' in the demos that Garrett arranged for me, but then we thought it might be weird for you to hear that."

Garrett is very thankful for Bethany's timely intervention, sensing he said something to make Anders feel uncomfortable again. Though his gratitude doesn’t last for long, as she mentions the cover they had agreed was a deep secret that they would keep from everyone, especially Anders. His eyes dart to her, giving her a quick glare before his head pulls back with a weak smile towards Anders.

"It's not weird at all!" Anders' assurance is adamant, and he looks from Garrett to a now blushing Bethany. "I'd love to hear it sometime, if you both don't mind."

Garrett's heart races, a blush he can't control spreading up his neck at Anders’ genuine enthusiasm about their work. He feels like he might spontaneously combust at any second. He sputters out a chuckle and gives Beth a nudge with just slightly too much force on purpose. He's shaking his head and he can't stop himself, the very idea of Anders hearing it is too much. 

"No, no, really it's not that good. He doesn't, Beth he doesn't need to...." Garrett fumbles over himself in a moment of panic.

"Besides I don't have the file," he tries again, hoping this will put a cap to that for now until he can have a word with his sister in private.

Bethany grins, giving Garret a little jab for his shove. "No worries, it's on my laptop, which is right here."

Anders isn't sure whether it's his natural curiosity and interest in different interpretations of his songs, or the way Garrett seems to falter and blush -in a way that's more endearing than Anders would openly admit- that makes him want to hear this more. Bethany seems excited about it too, but Anders gets the sense she's currently more interested in teasing her brother than she is in showing off her work. It's sweet, he supposes, if not something he can fully understand himself, not having any siblings of his own.

"Oh?" He exclaims, plastering an innocent smile on his face. "That sounds like the closest existing thing to a collaboration between us. It could give us some interesting perspective, so let's hear it."

He addresses both siblings, but he keeps his eyes on Garrett, curiously observing for his reaction.

Garrett is trying his best to keep his cool as he feels like he's being singled out for the express purpose of looking like an idiot. It’s not that he’s embarrassed of the work, entirely the opposite in fact. Bethany's vocals shine like nothing else, and he’s quite proud of his sound design. A month of work went into making it exactly what they wanted and he knows it's good, he's proud of it even. He just isn’t sure he can handle seeing Anders’ reaction, whatever that might be.

"Fine," Garrett says unhappily, his shoulders slumping forward in defeat for a battle he could never hope to win. He takes a seat, giving Bethany a dismissive ‘go ahead’ hand motion for her to get her computer.

"Yes!" Bethany immediately grabs Anders by the hand to pull him back to join them on the couch. 

She’s pulling her laptop up from her bag as Garrett slides himself into a progressively lower and more slouched seat. He can't put his finger on it, but his chest aches and his face feels hot. He was fine with Anders hearing their music up to now, is it the star worship finally getting to him? It has to be, why else would he so badly want Anders' praise and attention, but also to hide away in equal measures?

"Okay!" Bethany is bouncing with excitement. "I've got it! It'll play over the studio speakers in just a sec."

* * *

Unconsciously, both siblings assume the same stance as they wait for the music to begin. Elbows resting on their knees, arms bent up and chins resting in their hands. The only difference is their expressions, while Bethany stares at Anders to watch his reaction with a big smile, Garrett has to look away; down at his feet, or at the ceiling, or maybe bury his face in his hands entirely and save himself from looking like a fool when the bright red blush inevitably takes over his face.

Anders settles between the two siblings, anticipation building in his chest, and he's not sure how much is his own and how much is simply theirs infecting him as it permeates the cramped space. Then the music starts, loud and reverberating, running through his whole body through the powerful speakers.

Anders knows the percussion of this song like he knows his own heartbeat, but as the track starts and the first slow pounding beats wash over him he finds his breath catching. It's not just the slower tempo, there's something primal in the depth and distant echo of it; if the original is Anders' own heartbeat, this heartbeat belongs to some ancient unknowable beast, and it makes the hairs on his arms raise.

When the string arrangement comes in -and it's not a guitar, but some folk instrument he can't place in that moment, like a lute but grittier- Anders closes his eyes and leans back, letting the music wash through him. He wrote this intro to be purposefully jaunty, and he's heard slower, more mellow, or even dramatic strings and piano versions. But this-  _ this  _ is the sound of a funeral march.

Bethany's voice comes in, soft, softer than in any of her other demos.

_ Well, they come and pull me from my house _ _  
_ _ And they drag my body through the streets _ _  
_ _ And the sun's so hot I think I'll catch fire and burn up _ _  
_ _ In the summer air so moist and sweet _

The tempo picks up, ever so slightly, ever so abruptly. And the voice becomes more powerful, but it’s the kind of power that comes not from the defiance Anders sings about, but from fear.

_ And the people all come out to cheer _ _  
_ _ Rocks in the pathway break my skin _ _  
_ _ And there's honeysuckle on the faint breeze today _ _  
_ _ With every breath I'm drawing in _

Garrett chose the floor the moment the song began. He’s unable to handle the pressure of seeing a live reaction to a passion piece of Anders own song. He listens carefully though, critically picking at every single part of it, just to be sure he’s aware of any faults. Temptation eventually takes over and he looks. He swallows hard as what he expects to see, a bored or even harsh expression, is instead peaceful, contemplative and attentive. Garrett’s heart jumps into his throat, Anders seems to like, or at least to be enjoying it. His breath visibly picks up as Bethany’s singing becomes more intense, and he seems swayed by the raw, hard, dark emotions they aimed to convey. Garrett’s hand slowly comes up to grasp at his chest as he looks back down, fighting the smile blossoming across his face, accompanied by a light pink across his cheeks.

Bethany sings even louder in the chorus, a desperate edge to her tone.

_ I want to cry out _ _  
_ _ But I don't scream and I don't shout _

Anders' original lyrics have always been imbued with strong conviction, and he reveled in this conviction even in his bitterness. Bethany sings them full of fear and uncertainty. Like she's trying to convince, or perhaps remind herself of the very things Anders has always been screaming to the world.

_ And I feel so proud to be alive _ _  
_ _ And I feel so proud when the reckoning arrives _

The second verse grows even more powerful; some of the fear dissipates, it's anger now, pure and desperate. No one can stay afraid forever, after all, Anders muses as he listens. The instrumentation becomes denser too, but Anders won't allow himself to think too hard about the technical aspects of it, he's too absorbed in feeling everything the Hawkes are trying to convey with his own words and melody.

Bethany nearly screams the last chorus, and if the song started softer than her other recordings, this ending is much more powerful than any of them. There is no outro, the music stops abruptly, violently, the moment she exhales the last word.

Anders is speechless for a long moment. He finds his own breathing has picked up, and he takes deep breaths to settle, blinking slowly as the world, both too quiet and too noisy comes back into focus.

The more time that passes and Anders says nothing, Garrett realizes he can’t bring himself to ask for any actual feedback, for fear of having his feelings hurt.

Bethany on the other hand is far more determined. This song represents who she was and who she will be. A testimony and a promise in one, filled with every measure of pain and anger she has felt, all channeled into a powerful and commanding performance that surprises even her in retrospect. She watched Anders be swayed by the music, letting the emotions lead him through the journey. She’s elated now, as he seems to not only approve but be moved by what she and Garrett have put together. 

After giving him a moment to come back to himself she gently reaches out to nudge his arm. “No pressure, but I need to know exactly what you think.”

She smiles, so sweet on the surface, but haunting, like you’ll break her poor little heart if you refuse. “And please be entirely honest, as a mentor.”

Anders realizes, with mild embarrassment, that he’s been spacing out. His chest is brimming with feelings he's not sure how to properly word, and Bethany's suggestion only adds to his anxiety. He's honoured that she'd want him to be something like a mentor, but he also feels woefully unequipped and unprepared for it.

Panic threatens to seize him but he reins it in; he owes them something better than that, and he can't let his insecurity ruin this when it’s obvious how much his opinion matters to Bethany.

“This was... I mean, damn this was brilliant!" He grins at her, feeling a sudden jolt of energy, that combined with his nervousness urges him to get up from the couch. He resists the urge to pace, but he stands a few steps away, so he can properly address both of them. His brow furrows a bit when he notices Garrett won't look at him, but has his gaze fixed firmly on the ground.

"It was just..." Anders takes a moment to compose himself, put what he felt into words. "You didn't just change the music, or the tempo, or the mood, you changed the very meaning of the song. It was always about, well, pride, and revelling in being different even when you suffer for it, but you made it about…  About fear, I think, and sadness, and still being proud despite it all even when you wish you wouldn't be hurt like... Like you know that existing as your true self is an act of rebellion in itself but you wish it wasn't, and you know it shouldn't really be and there's something inherently heartbreaking about that."

Anders stops his excited gushing to take a breath, then he feels a soft blush coming on as a realization hits him. "This was a bit too presumptuous of me, but that's what I got anyway," he mutters a bit sheepishly, one hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. His leg is bouncing frantically now, nervous energy and excitement coming off him in waves.

"And the arrangement!" He turns to Garrett, grinning and forgetting about his embarrassment. "Every other demo Bethany sent was less on the folk side than my own style, but this was something else! It was atmospheric and wild and raw in a primal way. It..."

Anders finds himself stumped once again, and he lets out a little self-deprecating laugh. "I'm not very good at putting things into words."

Garret is wholly unprepared for the emotional roller coaster he’s been unwillingly buckled into. Where Bethany seems excited and prepared - affected by Anders in an entirely different way than he is- he feels like a sinking ship in unknown waters. The more this man talks to him, praises him, the more he needs it; a strange longing that he can’t allow himself the luxury of, no matter how bad it burns inside him. He’s not sure where that sudden need originated, he only knows that it’s strong and it is entirely Anders’ fault. 

_ The validation is too much, you’re just not used to meaningful praise like this _ , he tries to reason with himself. It’s enough for him to be able to lift his head, his smile soft and grateful, but the blush across his face a clear giveaway.

“No, you have it right.” Garrett tries to pour confidence he doesn’t entirely feel into his voice. By the end of the sentence, he’s sufficiently tricked himself into feeling it as well. He pushes himself off the couch to stand in front of Anders, back straight and shoulders loose.

“Be presumptuous, it’s why you’re here isn’t it? We want your opinions; you clearly have very good taste, since you’re giving us such high praise.” He can’t help the smirk that creeps up on the corner of his lips, his tone playful to match as his eyes meet Anders’.

And then Garret winks, quick, subtle, but absolutely flirty. A second after the fact he isn’t sure where it came from, it just felt right. Even as he dares not hope for reciprocation, the idea of something exciting happening in return flutters defiantly in the back of Garrett’s mind.

Garrett's smirk, the kind of expression he was fantasizing about punching off not too long ago, now causes something entirely different to stir in Anders' chest that has nothing to do with anger. He recognizes the playfulness in Hawke's tone for what it is this time, and when the man actually winks at him Anders has a moment of surprise before sheer instinct takes over.

He arches an eyebrow and tilts his head ever so slightly, and it's not an entirely conscious choice when his voice drops a bit in register as he replies. "Hm, you think so?" Anders doesn't break eye contact as he leans almost imperceptibly into Hawke's personal space.

Hawke is ever unprepared for this, true to his talent for getting himself into situations with his talk with no plans or thoughts of consequence. That little flutter that was there before is now an alarm bell, ringing furiously in panic. Anders tilts his head and Garrett can't look away. And then he leans in, and Garrett swears his heart skips a beat as his breath shallows. His smirk holds strong, he’s never been one to back down from a challenge after all.

"I know I do," Anders says, letting his gaze wander momentarily from Garrett's eyes down to his lips; they're slightly reddened from Garrett worrying on the bottom one while the song was playing, and more enticing than they have any right to be. Anders smirks, mirroring Garrett's expression before he continues.

"I have excellent taste in fact. And now I can't help but wonder what it is that you like." His voice is shamelessly close to a purr, but he's too carried away, lost in the moment, to be self conscious about it.

Garrett swallows hard, unconsciously leaning closer to Anders as well. He's captivated by the devilish smirk, by his low and unmistakably seductive tone. Anders is actually  _ flirting back,  _ something that he didn’t even consider as a possibility up to this point.

_ I like men. I like you, so very much right now. _ He wants to scream it, declare it, make his intentions clear but fear creeps in as he remembers where they are and just how many people have their eyes on him. But then again, being outrageous is what some of those very people pay him for.

"Usually taller, handsome, a bit rough on the edges," Garrett replies, giving Anders an obvious once-over full of intent. His words are more restrained than he would naturally go for, and yet way more than what his contract-holders would ever openly allow him, and there’s a rush of excitement in that separate to the one Anders’ intense, darkening stare sends down his spine.

"Gross! You really have no shame." Carver's voice cuts in, loud and abrupt. "Thought we were here to make Bethany’s music, not flirt with our weird teen crushes.”

Carver eyes over Anders with a look of disinterest as he goes to stand beside his twin, crossing his arms over his chest. Unlike the other two idiots, Carver couldn't care less who this guy is. He's there to support Bethany and, well, because his contract makes him, really.

Bethany gives Carver a sharp elbow to the ribs, causing him to grunt and double over.

Garrett goes bright red, all courage and bravado drained from him in an instant as his little brother so graciously exposes him without a second thought. The words ring in his mind, almost tauntingly so as he begins to rapidly question their entire interaction yet again.  _ A crush? No, I don't have a crush... Do I? _

The rude interruption by Bethany's twin violently snaps Anders back to reality. The comment itself - and he's one to talk about having no shame, even Anders knows this much- seems inconsequential, nothing more than noise he's prepared to ignore. But then the irritating little asshole presses on, and as much as Anders is used to ignoring his type, he can't ignore the way it makes Garrett crumple in on himself. Gone is the endearing warmth and the confidence, to be replaced by a painful mix of shame and betrayal.

Anders sees red. He barely registers Bethany delivering a sharp jab to her brother’s ribs, before opening her mouth to interject. She never gets to, Anders beats her to it with much less peaceful intent, voice so frigid it makes the one he used on Garrett earlier sound warm and fluffy.

"Then what exactly, pray tell, are you here for, uh..." He pauses for a second, regarding the younger Hawke with a strategically bored expression before picking what he's certain isn't the right name this time. " _ Cooper _ ?" 

Before the now indignant looking man can respond Anders presses on. "See, everyone else is in fact making music, or being useful in some way or the other, but I've yet to see what in the Void it is that you have to offer here." For a moment he can't help some of his anger from seeping into his tone, breaking his veneer of cold indifference, but he's quick to rein it in.

"Unneeded rude comments? Making your siblings feel embarrassed for you?" Anders tilts his head, giving him the most judgmental once-over he can muster. "Were you somehow led to believe that sitting around wearing the douchiest outfit in the Free Marches is a part of the musical process? Hm,  _ Caleb _ ?"

Anders defending Garrett so readily wasn’t expected, and Garrett’s gaze immediately draws back up as Anders tells Carver off. The tone shift sends a chill down his spine; a little arousal, a little fear. His eyes go wide at Anders' boldness in calling Carver out so completely. He’s captivated by the fire he can momentarily glimpse in Anders’ eyes, and the way he looks breathtaking even when he's mad, _ maybe even more so then _ .

Bethany stays quiet, struggling to find fault in anything Anders said, but her empathy for her twin keeps her from speaking up. 

Carver looks stunned, his mouth drops into an 'o' as he searches for a response that just won't seem to come. He stutters out an attempt at words a couple of times, but he gives up each time when nothing coherent comes out. He finally lands on: "Hey! Did you just call me Cooper?"

"And Caleb," Garrett confirms with a stunned nod, and Carver lets out a loud scoff and storms off.

Garrett isn’t overly concerned about that right now. He's too busy with the swirling thought that this is in fact a crush, and one that is being reciprocated. Maybe not to the degree that Garrett is feeling, but Anders is flirting back, and defending him, and looking ridiculously hot as he does so.

As Anders winds down, his evaporating anger leaves behind a sense of growing anxiety. He looks from Bethany's unsure expression to Garrett's inscrutable one and clears his throat. "Too far?"

"Oh I'll say," Varric's voice cuts in suddenly from right behind him - _ Maker but that dwarf can sneak up on you _ \- making Anders jump. 

He turns around, a small sheepish smile on his face. "Hey, Varric."

"Hey Blondie, two fights in under an hour, that's a new record for you," Varric drawls. But there's a tired quality to his voice that alarms Anders even more than anger would, so he bites down on his response of 'as far as you know' and tries to look appropriately chastised.

"How about a little break, and you can tell me  _ exactly  _ why I now have to deal with Junior whining about you on top of everything else?" Varric says in a disturbingly sweet tone.

With a long suffering sigh, and a last concerned look towards Bethany and Garrett, Anders lowers his head and follows Varric out.

**Author's Note:**

> So, to sum up this will be a modern Thedas with elves and dwarves but no magic AU (details [here](https://thisyearonao3.tumblr.com/post/643229018010861568/the-modern-thedas-of-this-year?is_related_post=1) ). And the way the musical part will work is we have a couple of actual irl artists assigned to each musician in the AU (more details [here](https://thisyearonao3.tumblr.com/post/643229734079168512/artist-claims?is_related_post=1)), and we will be sharing playlists, some of which you can already find on our tumblr, specifically Anders' [discography](https://thisyearonao3.tumblr.com/post/643233031843397632/anders-core-disc-faux-graphy)


End file.
